


The Roman Compromise

by lunarcrowley



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Ancient Rome, Angsty Crowley, Awkwardness, Chubby Aziraphale, Desire, Drunk Shenanigans, Episode: s01e03 Hard Times, First Kiss, Fluff, Gentleness, I am historically illiterate, Light Angst, M/M, One-Shot, Passion, Roman Villa, Tender Feelings, The Ineffable Plan (Good Omens), Timeline tie-in, historical setting, playful bickering, soft times, when in rome, wine drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:40:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22782652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarcrowley/pseuds/lunarcrowley
Summary: In 41 A. D., Crowley and Aziraphale get wine drunk in a Roman villa.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 62





	The Roman Compromise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [H_W_Star](https://archiveofourown.org/users/H_W_Star/gifts).



> here's my rendition of crowley and aziraphale in roman times. everything i know about ancient rome comes from the show, from spartacus, and from my good friend H_W_Star, my resident classics expert. possibly to be beta'd by her. sorry for the definitely abundant historical inaccuracies... still hope you enjoy the aesthetic and the soft times, though!

Aziraphale stood on the balcony overlooking the gardens. It was dusk, and a soft warm wind swirled through the air. It ruffled his curly white hair, and made his toga sway. He sighed, watching blue and purple fall over the lush concentration of plants in the peristyle. It was the kind of night that felt peaceful, but on the edge of something... thrilling. It felt strange, like some sort of beginning. Like the warmth he sometimes felt when in certain locations. But this was a little bit different. It made him worry a little... 

Crowley approached the balcony silently, and stood next to Aziraphale. Aziraphale sensed him immediately, and looked over at him. "Oh, it's you," He said, like he had been surprised. Crowley peered at him over his tiny black spectacles, offering a small glimpse of his snake eyes. "Yeah, who else?" He replied, cocking an eyebrow, and then looked out at the fading gold of the horizon over the city.

Aziraphale made an expression of agreement, and continue to gaze at Crowley, his elegant silhouette against the coming of the night. He looked away as he realized he had been looking for a moment perhaps too long. 

After Aziraphale had run into Crowley at the inn, and he'd tempted -- well, convinced -- Crowley to come and try oysters, it had become clear that they'd have to go their separate ways. Crowley had taken care of his job, and Aziraphale had been due somewhere far off. However, they had each received communications for conflicting assignments in the area, at the last minute. After all, it was Rome... plenty of work was up for grabs, and for Aziraphale, it was some of the more unpleasant stuff.

Crowley, being a commendable worker, had been given a temporary residence in a rather grand roman residence.... which had recently been in the control of some other demons. The previous wealthy owners had come to some rather untimely ends -- Crowley didn't share this part with Aziraphale. He had acted like it was regrettable to him, but had been secretly glad to invite Aziraphale to stay with him for the time being, while they figured out how to handle their jobs in the case of Aziraphale needing to encourage some peace in a specific situation, while Crowley was assigned to directly counteract that influence by sowing dissent.

As far as the citizens knew, the villa was still for sale, and completely empty. Took a little demonic magic, but they were pretty much hidden until they went out into the city. Besides, Aziraphale seemed to be enjoying himself in the lavish home. 

They stood in silence for a while, observing the beautiful view. Aziraphale closed his eyes, felt the wind, enjoyed the pleasant scent of herbs blowing up from the garden. It was quite a nice change compared to the less favorable smell of the city. This time Crowley sneaked a peek, watched the last rays of the sun lighting up his delicate face. He held in a sigh that would have matched the angel's.

"I don't know what it is," Aziraphale said, his expression dreamy. "Something feels... warm. Like something is going to happen. Something good..." He smiled, and looked over at Crowley with that tender, joyful expression in his light blue eyes.

Crowley was certainly feeling something moving around in him, something that made him a little nauseous. He scoffed. "Sure, angel. In this political upheaval? Whatever it is you're 'feeling'," He made a sarcastic whimsy movement with his hand. "Is exactly what I'm here to end."

Aziraphale's brow creased slightly. He watched as stars began to appear in scatters in the darkening navy sky. "I'm not sure this is something you can stop," He said, after pondering it. It didn't seem like it had anything to do with the task he was assigned, but he didn't mention that. 

Crowley leaned on the balcony, sensing a playfully opposing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He worked his mouth until it disappeared. "Oh, yeah, angel? I think you're seriously doubting my abilities." He said seriously.

Aziraphale turned his nose up at Crowley. "Of course I am," He said, primly. "That's what I'm meant to do." But then he, too, felt a smile growing. He turned away slightly to hide it.

"Pshh," Crowley said, rolling his eyes. "I'm tired of talking about work. Let's have some of the wine, hmm? Cost me a fortune." He turned and made for the opening archway into a small upstairs tablinium, just off the bedrooms, his black toga billowing behind him as he went.

Aziraphale smiled at the thought of a delectable Roman wine, straight from the vineyards. He followed excitedly. Crowley retrieved a bottle from a wine rack on the wall and put it down on a short glass table between the chairs. Aziraphale sat himself down on a plush ottoman. "Ah, cups," Crowley mumbled, realizing he had forgotten.

"I've got it," Aziraphale said. He waved his hand and two golden goblet-like glasses appeared. Crowley nodded his approval, and poured them each a glass. He handed Aziraphale his, and then sat on a wooden stool across from the angel. Aziraphale was fully stretched out and lounging on the ottoman.

"Mmm, that is quite nice," He said, as he sipped the deep red liquid. Crowley drank his, and winced slightly. Not exactly his favorite, but it would do. "Mghfhm," He said. 

Aziraphale frowned slightly. "Oh, dear boy. Are you not comfortable?" He tsked as he noticed Crowley sitting stiffly on the stool, smacking his tongue at the wine's strong taste. "M'alright," Crowley argued, wearing a grimace.

"Okay, if you say so," Aziraphale said, not quite believing him. He propped his head up on his hand, one leg resting on top of the other.

A few cups in, Crowley was actually began to enjoy the wine. He had relocated himself to the stone floor, between the table and the ottoman. His legs were crossed, toga bunched around him in a pool. Aziraphale looked down at Crowley's leather sandals, which were black and climbed in a crisscrossing pattern up his ankles and laced his calves almost entirely.

"Oh," He said. They were both a bit woozy now with the wine - it was quite potent and heady. "I like your shoes, dear."

Crowley chuckled. "Thanks, angel. Stole 'em, if I'm honest." He peered in an ornery manner over the rim of his cup as he drank.

Aziraphale gave a small gasp. "No!" He protested, shaking his finger. "You're quite naughty, dear boy."

Crowley hiccuped as his glass emptied. "S' in the job description," he said, and grinned.

Aziraphale grinned back. Crowley reached for the second full bottle he had gotten down a little bit ago, and poured himself some more - Aziraphale reached out his glass, and Crowley filled his up as well. 

"Salutaria," Aziraphale said. Crowley murmured something in a jolly agreement and they toasted.

A few more cups, and Aziraphale was giggling as he leaned over to gently pluck Crowley's silver circlet from his heavily styled red curls. "Its.. is.. lovely," he commented, looking it over, and then he bestowed it upon his own head.

"Halo," Crowley said, pointing at it, and unable to keep in his own laughter. "S'cute."

Aziraphale was then reaching over to pull Crowley's odd spectacles from his face, and fumbled with them, putting them on over his own eyes crookedly. "I'm you!" Aziraphale exclaimed joyfully, throwing a hand up in the air. 

Crowley chuckled. His face felt bare without the glasses. He was used to feeling self conscious about his eyes, now that civilization was developed to the point where one's eyes looking yellow and reptilian was not really acceptable. 

"But I, eh, like you better as.. you," He murmured, and wasn't realizing he was speaking aloud.

Aziraphale didn't really hear it. He was busy squinting and messing about with the spectacles. "How in Heaven do you see in these things?" He laughed. Eventually they tumbled from his hands and landed with a small plink to the floor. 

Crowley cleared his throat after noticing his mistake. But it hadn't done any damage, as far as he knew. "I don't," He admitted.

Aziraphale gave a surprised burst of laughter. Seeing Aziraphale's face break out into such unreasonable joy triggered Crowley into wheezing laughter as well. He braced himself against the edge of the ottoman, his shoulders wracking with his cackling. It felt good to let loose... the two of them could only ever really do that when they were together, beneath the radar. 

As Crowley was bent over laughing in front of him, Aziraphale gazed at Crowley's shining, curled mop of red hair. Quite out of his zone of social inhibition, he reached his hand over and placed it atop Crowley's head. Crowley, wiping his face from laughing so hard, lifted his head up, surprised.

Aziraphale stroked Crowley's hair gently. His eyes were wide, curious. Crowley was very still. "Y'know, I miss your longer, sweeping locks," Aziraphale admitted, somewhat shamelessly. "But this is nice too."

Crowley blushed deeply, as his hair ruffled and stood on end. "Erm," He said. "Thank you.." He coughed out. He was tensed beneath Aziraphale's hand, feeling awfully panicked all of a sudden. 

Aziraphale's hand released Crowley's hair, moved into a gentle caress against the side of Crowley's face. Crowley, weakened by the wine, was unable to keep himself from a sharp inhale, his eyes beginning to close at that feather-light brushing. Aziraphale's hand was softer than he had ever imagined...

Crowley came to his senses after a few dizzying moments. His eyes popped open and he frowned. Azriaphale realized as well. His hand flinched back. "Ooh, sorry," He said, his brow creasing. 

"Nghsk," Crowley said, his face pinched in a sad sort of grimace.

"Arm's tired," Aziraphale said with a sigh, as if nothing had happened. The elbow he had been propped up on collapsed, and he laid on the cushion of his arm instead. He was looking at Crowley more level now, his face still bright, and innocent. Cheeks pink and glowing, the circlet matching the silver of his hair, eyes like a clear morning sky.

Crowley pressed his lips together, his face still crumpled. He sat forward on his haunches, his head bobbing closer to the angel with the movement.

"Whas' wrong?" Aziraphale slurred, Crowley's blurry face coming into better focus. He looked a bit despondent, like Aziraphale had never seen him before. 

Crowley said nothing. His yellow eyes were unusually warm, his slitted pupils wide. Evil eyes. To anyone but Aziraphale.

"What... " He laughed. "What if..." He murmured, mostly to himself. He lifted his head from his arm, leaned it a little more forward towards Crowley. Crowley had never seen him that close before. All creamy, warm, smelled of vanilla. The whole damn good deal.

It was too hard to resist. And he wasn't one to ignore temptation. He took the chance. Crowley felt the goblet slipping from his hand, collapsing to the floor with a clunk, sloshing wine all over the flagstones. His eager lips pressed softly, fleetingly against the angel's. It was actually like touching heaven again. He could hardly bear it. He was ready to yank himself back in complete terror, when he felt Aziraphale's hand once more against his sharp face.

He was kissing back, softly. His own cup had fallen, but it fell on deaf ears, so he could hold Crowley's cheeks. Crowley thought he might actually faint. He began to stand, pulling himself out of the liplock, his head swimming. 

Aziraphale looked incredibly worried. He sat up, blinking. He was reaching longingly for Crowley. 

"Angel," Crowley said, his voice choked and slurred, and carrying a warning. His look was dark, and hard.

"No," Aziraphale protested. "No, no, no... wait," He said, holding up his hands. There was an intense feeling swelling in his throat. His cheeks were flushed pink, his chest rising and falling quickly. Like what the wind had carried to him earlier. "Crowley, that's it," He said. 

"What, what, what, are you talking about?" Crowley slammed out, increasingly flustered as he began to pace. 

"The feeling. The good thing! This.. that's it..!" He exclaimed. The feeling was too strong for him to hold back the announcement. He stood up, and found it hard to keep his balance.

"No," Crowley insisted, stumbling a little bit himself. "No way.. not... can't be..." He murmured. "Hhhguhh..." He pressed his hand to his forehead. 

"Hold on a minute. Need to.." Aziraphale closed his eyes and concentrated. The wine bottles filled back up. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Oh my," He exhaled. He paced away from Crowley, his expression truly rattled.

Crowley slumped down on the ottoman, his head lolling. "Guess I should... too..." He pressed his palm to his forehead and concentrated in a similar fashion. Soon all the wine they had consumed was back in the bottles, except for the spillage. Once he was sober, Crowley groaned and leaned forward, putting his head in his hands.

Then he looked at the ceiling. "Why?" He asked, wincing and biting into his lip.

"Crowley, I am so sorry. I never meant to... so foolish of me. For goodness sake.." Aziraphale was finding it rather hard to look at him. He began pacing back towards him, but kept his gaze affixed to the floor, his arms folded. He stared at the spilled goblet, the dark red-purple stain on the floor. One of his hands came up to his face as he thought, and his finger stroked his bottom lip. He was still thinking about it. "For goodness sake!" He protested, and waved his hand. The wine cleaned itself up and goblets reappeared on the table.

Aziraphale continued to murmur, half to himself, half to Crowley. "I am such a fool. The Arrangement... to Hell with it I guess. I'll just. I will go do my duty. Can't stay here.." He raised his fingers to snap himself away.

"Wait!" Crowley protested, in a frustrated growl. "Angel. Wait."

Aziraphale turned slowly back towards Crowley. He looked timid, and deeply embarrassed. And even more shameful about their friendship than ever before. Crowley really just couldn't have it.

"I'm sorry, Crowley. I really must go. This whole thing, I shouldn't be here. It's all very wrong.." He said all of this in a panicked voice, but stood still. "I can't believe what I've done. Acting like a human. Or even a.. a.. I'm a terrible angel. And even you... wicked! And I'm the one that--"

"Shut up!" Crowley snapped. "Will you shut up, 'ziraphale." He walked over to him, his sandals padding against the dusty stone floor. He was looking at him in a very guarded way. "You've still got my," Crowley gestured in a circlet around his head. "Er, thing." 

"Right," Aziraphale murmured softly, defeated. He plucked the circlet from his head and handed it over to Crowley. "I'll be--"

"Angel!" Crowley insisted, rolling his eyes, gripping the circlet so hard it poked into his hand. "You don't need to leave. You said it yourself, it's the ... good..." He trailed off uncertainly, his expression desperate.

"Well, I rather think I should, given the situation!" Aziraphale replied, his face still wild with panic. "Nevermind what I said. I was wrong."

Crowley sighed, clenching his jaw. That felt like a punch in the gut. He took a moment to muster the willpower to say what he meant. He knew Aziraphale had been right, really.

"But I don't... want you to."

Aziraphale paused, his face softening a little. "You don't... want me to?"

"No!" Crowley hissed, like it was obvious.

Aziraphale frowned. "I don't understand."

Crowley threw his arms in the air. "Of course you don't!" 

"What's that supposed to mean!" Aziraphale exclaimed.

"Because I haven't-- Good Lord, will you just..." Crowley reached his arms out, like he meant to grab him by the shoulders. But he relaxed them, and beckoned him forward.

"I really wish you wouldn't curse," Aziraphale murmured. 

"Ghksjs! You cursed not two minutes ago!" Crowley argued shrilly.

Aziraphale smiled gently. 

"Will you come here, already," Crowley wheezed.

Aziraphale stepped into Crowley's arms. Crowley rested his hands on Aziraphale's soft, plump arms which were bare, and rubbed his thumbs along his skin. Aziraphale blinked and felt his face growing hot. The demon had never touched him in such a way before. His fingers were long, slender and cool. He sighed.

He waited for a moment, as Crowley just looked at him, breathing jaggedly, as if unsure what to do. 

"What is it you are trying to do?" Aziraphale asked, frowning slightly, looking... impatient.

"I don't know," Crowley replied. He looked like he was trembling. 

Aziraphale could not wait any longer. He took hold of the front of Crowley's toga, and pulled him forward. The movement forced Crowley's wiry figure to stumble towards him. He pressed his lips urgently against Crowley's, his other arm wrapping easily around his waist. Crowley had never seen such passion from the angel. He responded instantly, snaked his hands up and around Aziraphale's neck, holding onto him tightly. "Mmm!" Crowley exclaimed against Aziraphale's mouth.

He had kissed others before. But Lord. It was magic, this.

"I know," Aziraphale replied, and kissed him again. It felt like it was meant to happen.

Crowley sighed desperately. Aziraphale pulled back, red in the face and frightened by his own exhilaration. "What.. what does it mean? What will we do?"

Crowley chuckled somewhat devilishly. "What happens in Rome stays in Rome, eh? Deal?" He raised his eyebrows. "Forget about it after. Back to business."

Aziraphale chuckled bashfully. "Oh... alright. Well.. deal." He looked a little bit disappointed. "Only if you, if you...kiss me once more," He said, looking hopeful, then. 

"Oh, alright," Crowley said dryly, but there was a big, happy smile in the corner of his mouth. He put out his hand. Aziraphale took it firmly, and shook slowly.

Crowley pulled Aziraphale to him by his hand, and the rest was history.


End file.
